


The Feel Of A Memory

by NightOfStarFall



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: (not relevant but that is the era we are in), Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Crying, Dick Grayson Gets a Hug, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson is Robin, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, dick goes to the circus, it goes as well as you'd imagine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29814849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightOfStarFall/pseuds/NightOfStarFall
Summary: He had figured that it would be ok, it’s not like it was the first time he had been to a circus since Bruce had taken him in – almost 4 years previous at this point. Bruce brought him to Haly’s every time they stopped in Gotham.But he has never been to a circus without Bruce since that night.And he had never been to a circus that wasn’t Haly’s, with all of Dick’s family, people he had know most of his life, who were safe, and loved him, and gave him hugs and who madehimfeel safe.And he had absolutely never watched a trapeze act since then.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 60





	The Feel Of A Memory

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Jingle Jangle Morning](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19792300) by [audreycritter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/audreycritter/pseuds/audreycritter). 



> So, this has been in my brain for like 2 weeks and would not leave until I wrote it. As it turns out, I am incapable of writing fluff, because I tried and this happened. I am sorry.
> 
> This was originally inspired by The Jingle Jangle Morning by audreycritter, which is absolutely amazing, and you should absolutely read it.

Dick knew he should have asked to leave the moment he heard what the back up plans were. Asked to stay on the bus, or called his Uncle Clark to come and pick him up. And really, he should have thought to find out what the backup plan was, should they have gotten rained out of the zoo. But this was Metropolis, and it was the exceedingly sunny to Gotham’s exceedingly rainy, the forecast hadn’t predicted rain until the next week.

Not to mention that he had been a little excited upon hearing the plans. He had figured that it would be ok, it’s not like it was the first time he had been to a circus since Bruce had taken him in – almost 4 years previous at this point. Bruce brought him to Haly’s every time they stopped in Gotham.

But he has never been to a circus without Bruce since that night.

And he had never been to a circus that wasn’t Haly’s, with all of Dick’s family, people he had know most of his life, who were safe, and loved him, and gave him hugs and who made _him_ feel safe.

And he had absolutely never watched a trapeze act since then.

To be honest, there just wasn’t a trapeze act at Haly’s anymore. Pop Haly had made it clear that Dick was allowed to come back once he was old enough and take over if he ever wanted to – if he felt safe enough to – but he had never replaced the act. So Dick never had to worry. 

But he did some routines at home.

With a net.

And a spotter.

And careful checks on the ropes a minimum of three times before he got on it.

But still, he got on. 

He should be fine, just watching something. He doesn’t even know the couple doing the act, and they have a net, and they are good. So Dick pushes down the undo stress and anxiety that has been bubbling in his stomach since the final act had been announced and everyone had leaned forward while he had curled in on himself. 

Because it’s completely different.

.  
.  
.

And then she falls.

Dick doesn’t remember her name, had gone numb when the spotlight had zeroed in on the trapeze, but he couldn’t help as his brain supplied a different face, soft and kind, brushing hair out his face and calling him her little robin, falling through the air. Her partner followed quickly, jumping with a small tuck as the crown gasped over their falling forms.

Down.

Down.

Down.

Where they would make a ~~sickening crack~~ soft woosh as they landed on the ~~hard ground~~ bouncing net.

Dick couldn’t breath, mouth opened to scream but he couldn’t make a sound as the two the performers ~~lay broken and bleeding~~ get up and bow.

The ringmaster was saying something, some line or another as the crowd ~~cried~~ laughed around him, breaking into ~~terrified screams~~ thunderous applause.

All the while Dick kept seeing the same thing over and over, helpless to save them.

He was dimly aware of the people around him, getting up and moving, but he could stop staring at ~~their broken bodies~~ the now empty net.

“Dick, buddy?” A voice says distantly, as if underwater, everything far away and fuzzy, “It’s time to go. Are you ok? You look a little pale bud.”

Ok? Ok? Ok left the table the moment ~~his~~ their act had been announced.

“They fell.” He thinks he says, but he can’t feel his tongue and the words feel foreign in his mouth. “They.. They fell.”

And he takes a shuddering breath as everything slams into him all at once, breath catching in his throat, coming out as a sob, and once he started he couldn’t stop. Memory on loop over and over and over again.

He was dimly aware of someone cursing, some words being said, the name Bruce, which just made Dick sob harder because _he really wanted ~~his dad~~ Bruce_.

Some indeterminate time later, months, minutes, seconds later, he felt something get pressed to his ear, and a deep rumbling voice began to speak.

“Dick, chum, can you hear me?” It was Bruce, his voice tucked beside his ear – a phone which his hand reached up to grasp, curing in further on himself as the voice spoke to him “I need you to answer me, chum.”

“Bruce?” He gasps out, and it’s wet and choked up, most of the word swallowed in tears and phlegm.

“That’s right,” He says, still low and soothing, a blanket of protection on his brain, “I heard you weren’t having to hot of a time.”

“They fell!” He all but wailed out, somehow crying harder then before, “I don’t want to be here anymore. Come and get me, Bruce _please_ ”

“I’m working on it, I promise,” There is a raw pain in his voice, and sounds behind them, wind, an engine, “But Gotham is fairly far from Metropolis. I am on my way chum, but it’s going to take an hour and a half, at the least.”

“No, no please, Bruce!” It comes out high and panicked. Dick just wants his dad.

“I know. I know chum, but I am working as hard as I can, ok,” There was something choked in his voice as Dick let’s out a keening sound, “I sent a message to Clark, ok? He is going to come get you.”

“B-but I don’t- I don’t want Uncle C-Clark,” He sobs out, attempting to get in a deep breath, “Bruce I w-want y-you.”

“I know. I’ll be there as soon as I can chum, but I can’t get there immediately. I’m so sorry.”

Dick tried to respond, but nothing came out as Bruce continued to speak soothing words. He was distantly aware of people around him, speaking in hushed voices, and there was a slight buzz of embarrassment, but he couldn’t bring himself to focus on it, just listening to Bruce’s words in his ear.

Sometime later – he doesn’t think it is a very long time – he becomes aware of one voice in particular around him, which is followed closely by the face of his Uncle Clark in front of him.

Without thinking, he throws himself forward, trusting Clark to protect him from the outside world, phone nearly dropping in his haste – though it was quickly caught by the man in question.

“Bruce?” Dick was pressed close enough to Clark’s chest that he felt the words more than heard them as the man held the phone up to his ear, “It’s Clark. I got him, I’m bring him back to my place, do you want me to call you then?”

As he spoke, he ran a large warm hand up Dick’s back, and his sobs began to peter off some, though his shaking remained.

“Yes, I promise, not going to leave him. Ok, I will call you the moment we get back to my apartment and not a moment later, ok. I’ll get him there as quickly as I can. Ok. Bye.”

There is some movement, presumably as Clark hands the phone back to whoever it belonged to. There are more words spoken, lower and a little more growly, but Dick can’t pull up the awareness to care what they mean as he is held, shaking and crying, in a firm embrace.

Moments later he is picked up effortlessly off the ground and out of the tent. Dick just tucks his head in tighter to Clark’s neck as they walked. 

He felt a slight thrill of fear when he heard a car door open, worried that Clark would make him let go so he could drive. Dick was sure he would shake apart completely if not for Clark’s hold on him at the moment. But luckily he just slid into the car with him.

“Oh my, the poor boy.” He heard a distance female voice say.

“Yeah, he’s had a long day.” Clark’s chest once again rattled against Dick, “Thanks again for driving Lois.”

“It’s no problem. You two just relax while I get you home.”

Dick doesn’t know how long the drive was, he was floating in and out of awareness as he mind wandered back and forth from his parent to Clark’s voice, telling him Kryptonian legends in a low and soothing voice. All he knows is that one minute they are in the car and the next he is bundled in blankets, pressed against Clark’s side on the couch with something playing on TV – Avatar the Last Airbender he think.

The next who knows how long passes like that, Dick only half aware of everything around him.

He know at some point he drank something. Thinks maybe he had a bit of something. Knows that his shaking never really stops, and his tears start and stop randomly, with no say from him near blank mind.

But at some point the door opens, and in stumbled a frantic Bruce.

Dick is up from the couch like a shot and into his dad’s arms before he can even open his mouth. Bruce slips to the ground, carefully holding Dick with the all-consuming tightness that only he seems to create.

“B-Bruce,” Dick chokes out, “Bruce!”

“Oh Dick.” His voice is wet, rough, as if he has something caught in his throat, “Oh chum. It’s gonna be ok, I promise.”

Dick can’t manage a surprise, just let himself be pulled close by Bruce as he cries again, hand slowly running though his hair as gentle words of assurance rumbled through his chest. But he is suddenly aware of the fact that he is tired, as if every modicum of adrenaline had stayed just long enough to feel his dad’s arms around him and had now decided to abandon him. 

Slumping into Bruce’s embrace, he allowed himself to slowly slip unconscious as the tears tapered off. He knew that come morning there would be conversations to be had. Knew that it was likely that someone who was not subject to the schools nondisclosure agreement had gotten a photo or video, had likely posted it online or gone to a paper. Knew there would be a mess to deal with.

Knew that nightmares would likely come far before that. 

But for the moment he just let his limbs go loose, knowing that Bruce would take care of all of it. 

Just like he always did.


End file.
